


Which Date? (witch date)

by K_K_TiBal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Demon Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Magic, Short One Shot, Spells & Enchantments, Witch Castiel (Supernatural), witch!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27858161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_K_TiBal/pseuds/K_K_TiBal
Summary: Based on the three-word tumblr prompt: Sunlight, Marble, Blood
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	Which Date? (witch date)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small ficlet I posted on tumblr that I forgot to post here!

It was nine fifty-nine in the evening and Castiel was wearing a well-pressed suit, a baby-blue tie, and a frown. 

The frown deepened as the clock finally struck ten, and Castiel let out a disgruntled breath of air. 

"Figures.” He murmured to the empty room in front of him. 

There was a table to his left with remnants of half-finished spells that he’d been procrastinating and scrolls with lists of potion ingredients that he’d recently run out of - a messy space that mocked all of the choices he’d made to end up in this exact moment instead of doing something productive. 

Castiel set his jaw, and walked over to the table. 

He had the spell memorized by this point - he’d used it so many times over the years that he barely needed to double-check his work. Crushed femur bone, sulfur, wolfsbane; all tossed into a well-used marble bowl that he’d managed to clean just the day before. 

Castiel then picked up the black ceremonial dagger and cut an incision across the palm of his hand, hissing as the steel bit into his flesh, and let the blood fall into place among the other ingredients. 

After saying a few, quick lines of Latin, Castiel gripped the bowl with his bloody hand, lit a match with the other and walked to the center of the room, staring into the dark circle painted onto the floorboards in front of him. 

He let out another breath, dropped the match into the bowl, and flung the entire thing into the circle. 

The room lit up like a flash of sunlight as the dark lines sparked bright yellow, then orange, then red - and Castiel winced as a high-pitched whistling noise filled the air, then was quickly cut off as a powerful being appeared in the center of the glowing circle. 

A handsome male figure with a strong jaw, dusty hair, and freckles framing his face was standing in an awkward half-crouch in nothing but Scooby-Doo boxer briefs and a single oven mitt. 

“Uh,” the figure said, glancing down at himself and then back up at Castiel, “Cas, what the hell?”

Castiel folded his arms against his chest and said nothing as he stared daggers at the man in the summoning circle. 

“I mean - uh,” the man stood a little straighter as his eyes flashed black and dragged up and down Castiel’s figure, “Wow. You look - you look good.”

“You forgot.” Castiel said bluntly. 

“I - what?” The man squinted at him. 

“ _Dean.”_ Castiel huffed. “This was _important.”_

“Cas, I - ” Dean scratched at his head with his oven-mitted hand, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Castiel scowled, and the circle began to grow brighter. 

“ _Our anniversary.”_ He said, scarcely able to believe that Dean had _completely_ forgotten about their plans to actually splurge on a fancy restaurant for the first time in their year-long relationship. 

Dean paused, mouth half open as he stared back at Castiel’s stormy expression. 

“. . . is _tomorrow.”_ Dean said. 

Castiel opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, and opened it again. 

“. . . No, it’s _today.”_

“Babe, our first date was on the nineteenth.” Dean said, stepping as close to the edge of the circle as he could. “That’s tomorrow.”

“But -” Castiel scrambled for words, “but we _met_ today _.”_

Dean’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ and his expression softened. 

“Oh, Cas, I’m sorry. This is uh, I think we got a little confused.” A gentle smile formed on his lips as he pressed his hand up against the invisible barrier that separated the two of them. “Can I come out now?”

A moment passed before Castiel nodded once and dragged the sole of his shoe along the circle, breaking the line and stopping the glow. 

Dean stepped out of the circle and carefully grabbed Castiel’s bloodied hand, inspecting it with a glance. 

“You really don’t have to cut your whole palm, you know.” Dean said, and waved a hand over it, sealing the wound instantly. “Just a single drop will do.”

Castiel only rolled his eyes at the demon trying to magic-splain to a witch. 

“I know.” He said, the tone of his voice was short. “I was feeling dramatic.”

“Yeah, I - I get that.” Dean said with a small laugh, but his hand didn’t leave Castiel’s. “I’m sorry, I thought that you meant the anniversary of our first date.”

“And I thought it was going to be the anniversary of our first meeting.” Castiel admitted bashfully. “I suppose I should. . .communicate better.”

“Nah, it’s my fault, too,” Dean said, and took a half-step backwards to blatantly get an eyeful, “But damn. I’m not going to complain about seeing you in that suit a day early.”

Castiel chuckled and cocked his head to the side.

“And your choice of casual-wear is stunning as well.” 

Dean smirked and gestured at his mostly-naked body with the oven-mitt. 

“You like? They’re custom-made.”

“Is the oven-mitt also custom-made?” Castiel said with a raised eyebrow, then paused. “Oh - were you in the middle of baking when I summoned you?”

Dean’s eyes widened. 

“Ah _shit_. My cookies.” 

Castiel laughed and tugged on Dean’s hand, leading him out of the summoning room. 

“Come on - let me make it up to you.”

“Cas, this is serious. What if it starts a fire?”

“. . . “

“I’m kidding. I live in Hell. Make it up to me Your Ruggedness.”


End file.
